


The Night We Met

by Signsofsam



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Buck is a prince, But there are no regrets, Chance Meetings, Eddie is just trying to survive, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mentions of Chris - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt, idek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27790528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signsofsam/pseuds/Signsofsam
Summary: It wasn’t Eddie’s intention to rescue a prince.It wasn’t his intention to rescue anyone. He was only trying to find some food for himself and his son in this barren, desolate, hilly wasteland somewhere outside the kingdom of Angeles.He was only trying to survive long enough to get to the city.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han
Comments: 9
Kudos: 87





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt was: **Buck as a Prince/Eddie as a Knight or Eddie as an outlaw/trying to rescue Buck** and I’ve sort of...run away with it. There will be at least one more, and probably two more chapters. 
> 
> Title is from Lord Huron’s _The Night We Met_ (what can I say, I'm *highly* original).
> 
> Other, random notes: 
> 
> 1\. My world building could use some work
> 
> 2\. So could my country naming
> 
> 3\. So could my fight scene writing
> 
> 4\. Please forgive me for all the above
> 
> 5\. Can I classify this as a meet-cute? Doesn't matter; I'm doing it.

It wasn’t Eddie’s intention to rescue a prince.

It wasn’t his intention to rescue anyone. He was only trying to find some food for himself and his son in this barren, desolate, hilly wasteland somewhere outside the kingdom of Angeles. 

He was only trying to survive long enough to get to the city.

But he heard the shout of pain from the otherside of the craggy rock face while picking some conspicuous looking mushrooms, and he couldn’t not see what was happening on the other side. The soldier in him was analyzing his position, the fact that his only means of defense was the battered blade that had seen him through the war, telling himself that this was a bad idea, but there was another shout and the soldier in him thinks to Chris, how disappointed his son would be if he just left someone to be tortured, and so he peeks over the rocks.

Four men surround a fifth, cloaked in all black, and Eddie-he _knows_ those uniforms. He’s seen them before, and he’s seen the fear in men’s eyes as they talked about them-the Hunters of Lord Kendall. The man they’re surrounding is on his knees, hands bound behind his back, and he looks haggard, blood trailing down his head from a cut on his forehead. “You can hurt me all you want,” the man snaps as he’s backhanded again, “but I’ll never tell you or your master where Maddie is.”

_Maddie_. 

The name is familiar enough, though Eddie couldn’t tell you where he’d heard it. Perhaps passerbys on the long, lone road that connected Angeles to the rest of the continent? Perhaps in Elpaso, before it descended into the war that cost him his son’s mother and left him with new wounds and dead friends?

Curious.

There’s another gasp of pain, and one of the hunters moves away from the group, retrieving what looked like a giant mallet with spiky protrusions from the horse and cart in the distance. Eddie frowns, eyes following the hammered end of the tool, and he can feel his muscles coiling, his hand going to the hilt of his sword, preparing himself for...what, exactly? He’s not sure.

It turns out he’s preparing to fling himself at the weaponed hunter as soon as he sees the mallet come down on the captured man’s leg, moving before the man lets out an ungodly, unholy cry of pain Eddie never wants to hear again. His sword is out before the Hunter can turn, and in one swift motion, the Hunter’s head is rolling away from his body, and Eddie is panting, blood rushing as he turns to face the other three.

They are Hunters, they are known, experienced fighters, but he is Edmundo Diaz. He survived the war of Elpaso, and he saved his entire unit of twelve from a battalion of over a hundred while doing it. 

Three well trained men are nothing.

Soon, he is standing alone, breathing heavy, and he can feel the sweat dripping down his back, the pulse of pain from the slice on his arm one of them managed to land before he, too, died, and the frenzy of the fight slowly leaves him, and the world slowly returns, and he’s surrounded by the wastes and the dead and a man who’s whimpering in pain. He sheathes his sword, dropping to his knees beside the man, and it only takes one look at the man’s face--more specifically the reddish birthmark above and below the man’s right eyebrow--to know exactly who he rescued.

_Crown Prince Evan Buckley Nash, heir to the Angeles throne._

_Fuck._

So, it wasn’t Eddie’s intention to rescue a prince or bring any sort of attention to himself, but, here he is, the sun setting on the only road through the wastes, staring at the Crown Prince of Angeles wondering what the ever-loving fuck he’s supposed to do now. 

And the first words that come out of his mouth to said Crown Prince? “Holy hell.”

_Wonderful_.

The man laughs through his cries, bright blue eyes flying open. “So you...you recognize me,” he gets out, wincing as he tries to move. “I think...I think he hurt my leg.”

“Yeah, I’d say he did some damage,” Eddie answers (because he’s brilliant with words. _Just brilliant, you absolute dolt_ ), reaching out carefully to touch the bleeding mess of the prince’s lower leg. “I don’t think you’ll be able to walk on this. I’ve a camp set up not far from here; do you think you could make it there?” The horses the men had are long gone, and Eddie’s not looking forward to trying to get the prince back to his tent.

How’s he going to explain this to Christopher?

“I’m-” the prince winces as Eddie attempts to free his hands, watches him with careful eyes as he searches the Hunters’ bodies until he finds a dagger, finally managing to saw through the ropes. “I’m not sure. I can’t really-can you help me sit?”

Eddie nods, handing over the dagger when the prince eyes it, and he’s as gentle as he can be as he helps the man sit, only moving once he’s sure the prince is balancing on his hand, returning to look at the lower leg. He’s wearing nice leather boots, and it looks like the material stood up pretty well to the hit, Eddie can see where some of it is scrapped and broken through, blood staining the torn edges. “I think for now we’re best to bind it, boot and all; I’ll look at it once we get to my tent.”

“You’ve trained in medicine?” the crown prince is watching him, a searching expression on his face. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“My name is Eddie, your highness, and as I’m the person that stopped them from permanently maiming you, perhaps you could trust me a bit?” He pushes his dark hair off his face--his hair’s grown longer than he’s used to while he’s been traveling--and winces at his tone. “I’m...I’m sorry. I don’t mean to speak harshly to you, sir.”

“Buck.”

Eddie frowns. “Your highness-”

“Buck, Eddie. We’re in each other’s trust here, hmm? The people I trust call me Buck.”

“If you insist, sir-Buck.” He binds the boot as tight as he dares, using the cloak of one of the dead men, ignoring Buck’s whimpers of pain. “We should move before it gets dark. Bandits roam this road at night.” He knows this from personal experience, but the prince didn’t need to know that specific detail. “Are you ready to stand up?”

By how green he seems to get, Eddie’s guessing that he wants to say no, but the prince takes a deep breath and nods. Eddie’s as gentle as he can be, but he can hear every bitten back cry of pain as he gets the prince ( _Buck_ ) standing, his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, Eddie his pillar of support as he waits until Buck steadies. The sun’s a little too low for comfort when they finally start stumbling their way back to Eddie’s camp.

“You never answered the question before,” Buck says, and Eddie frowns, glancing at him before returning his eyes to the road, looking for the bend where there’s a crack in the wastes, a cliff carved out there just large enough and defensible enough for Eddie to feel comfortable leaving his child. “You’ve trained in medicine?”

“Before, in Elpaso. Before the war there.” He keeps his answer short, hoping his new companion doesn’t press.

“My sister is one of Angeles’ medical corps; she’s the head of the court’s medical wing.”

“That’s the Maddie the Hunters were after?”

Buck nods. “Maddie was betrothed to Lord Kendall; I found out he was hurting her, and our parents didn’t care, and so I went to rescue her with my men. She fell in love with the head of my guard, Sir Howard, and she’s happy, now. Apparently Doug can’t have that. But better he takes me than find my sister. If he took her back to Pennsyl, she’d be back under our parents and Doug’s thumbs, and she wouldn’t survive.” He winces as he trips on a root, but Eddie keeps him upright, though it makes his muscles tremble. His arm is pulsing with pain, and he’ll need to sanitize it soon or risk an infection.

Eddie frowns at the mention of the mountainous, forested kingdom of Pennsyl. It’s to the east, on the opposite coast of their land, not at all close to Angeles. “Your parents aren’t in Angeles?”

“King Robert adopted me awhile ago. I-my parents didn’t want me, so I stowed away on a ship bound for the port, and I saved the children of his partner, Queen Athena, during a tsunami. It’s not a common situation, I’m sure.” He’s wincing every few steps now, looking around the dusky darkness. “Is it...is it much farther? I- I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to stand.”

Just as he says it, Eddie sees the bed he was looking for, the sharp drop off. “No, your highness. Just up-”

He should have seen what was to follow.

He should have seen the horses grazing in the distance.

He should have known.

But he doesn’t see any of it, he doesn’t suspect a thing, and so he walks right up to the group of soldiers waiting at his tent, one of them holding his struggling son. 

He doesn’t remember quite what happens, his sole focus on his son, watching his father with wide, scared eyes, and there are shouts. He’s pretty sure Buck yells “CHIM!” but he can’t-it’s a blur of fighting, to get to his son, to not drop Buck, until it’s not, and pain explodes from the back of his head and darkness overtakes him.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man has warm, kind eyes. 
> 
> And a handsome face.
> 
> But mostly, it’s the eyes for Buck, their concern to a man they don’t know, even though Buck can tell the exact moment the man recognizes him, and the concern turns to genuine apprehension, and finally a muttered “Holy hell.”
> 
> It’s such a strange beginning.
> 
> Of course it’s going to end badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we go, chapter two. I have absolutely _no_ clue where this story is leading, so we'll just go on this little adventure together, hmm (cue my Bob Ross voice).

Buck is not a prince who needs saving, no matter how the situation looks.

He would have figured out how to escape the Hunters, just like he figured out how to live after his parents kicked him out or how he figured out how to survive with two small children in town in the middle of a tsunami, or how he figured out how to get his sister away from her abusive fiancé, or even how he figured out how to be the heir to Angeles after the king adopted him. If there was one thing Evan Buckley Nash was good at, it was figuring things out, surviving bad situations and adapting quickly.

That becomes just a bit harder when the man slammed his weapon down on Buck's leg, but he would have figured it out. 

Eventually.

Eddie just happens to arrive before he gets to that point. And Buck’s grateful for the assistance because honestly he can’t focus on much more besides the pain in his leg, and how it’s throbbing, and he gets lost in that anguish and doesn’t really pay attention to the single, solitary man who kills his captors until the man is kneeling in front of him.

He has warm, kind eyes. 

And a handsome face.

But mostly, it’s the eyes for Buck, their concern to a man they don’t know, even though Buck can tell the _exact_ moment the man recognizes him, and the concern turns to genuine apprehension, and finally a muttered “Holy hell.”

It’s such a strange beginning.

Of course it’s going to end badly.

It’s chaos around them when they get to Eddie’s small camp, and really all Buck sees through the jostling and pain is a small kid and Chimney; he’s struggling to make his voice heard before he’s falling, Eddie crumpling like a sack and taking Buck with him. 

He hits the ground hard, hits his leg hard, and the world whites out; he’s not sure if he’s screaming or crying or shouting because it’s nothing in the prison of his own mind, where the only thing he can hear and feel and even _taste_ is the pulsing, excruciating pain shooting from his leg. His hands are clutching something-his hair? the ground? he doesn’t know-tightly, aching as time passes, as the white slowly recedes and the pulsing settles into a throb and he can make out Chim, watching him worriedly, and the sobs of a child somewhere beside him.

“Your majesty,” Chim breathes out in relief, catching Buck’s flailing hand (they were in his hair; he lets go as soon as he realizes) and squeezing tight. “Buck, it’s okay, sir-”

If he could roll his eyes, he would. “You’ve never...never called me sir seriously,” he whispers, and Chim’s laugh, though it makes his head ring, is a sound he holds on to, tries to concentrate on as the rest of him comes back. “Chim, the man I was with?”

“He’s...he’s here, your highness. We were worried he was holding you against your will-”

“My father wouldn’t kidnap anyone, you dolt!” a small, high voice snaps from Buck’s side, and he ignores Chim’s wince in favor of turning his head just enough to look at the kid, sitting by Eddie’s unconscious body, tiny, shaking hand on the man’s cheek. He’s got a mop of tangled, dirty curls and Buck can see some sort of...braces? maybe? on his legs, over his pants. Unlike Eddie, who seemed a bit starved, cheek bones hollow and overall haggard, the child seems well fed and taken care of, except for his red eyes, puffy from crying. “He’s not a bad man. He saves people,” the little boy whimpers, hand patting Eddie’s cheek. “Please wake up, Papa. Please.”

And oh, that breaks Buck’s heart. “He’s not lying, Chim; Eddie didn’t capture me or anything of the like. He’s a refugee from Elpaso; he and his son were on their way to Angeles, and he was out looking for food. He saved me.”

“Your Highness, you’ve had a time tonight-”

“Yes, I have, but it wasn’t Eddie who caused it; he saved me. It was Kendall’s Hunters, Chim; he sent them after Maddie, and I found them before they found her. There were four of them; they’re dead now. Head up the road, towards the mountains, and you’ll find them not too far from here.” And it must be so hard for Chimney, to have to give his unyielding loyalty to Buck when he’s so apparently worried about his wife and the child she’s carrying. “Was anyone hurt? When I was-?”

“Two of your guards are dead-Baxter and Scott. Lena was bleeding pretty badly, which is why Hen isn’t here. I sent our fastest rider back for the carriage; you aren’t walking on this leg,” Chim bites out when Buck opens his mouth. “Maddie will kill me if you do any more damage to it. As of now it already looks like someone took a meat grinder to it, though whoever bandaged it did a pretty decent job, considering.”

“It was Eddie, Chim. He was going to get me back to the city. You’ve got to make sure he’s all right.” Buck’s voice is soft, pleading.

Chim looks to Eddie, as if he’s trying to make a decision, and then sighs. “I wish Hen was here; she could look him over. Hey, kid!” When the little boy looks up, he’s glaring, and Buck can’t help his laugh. “Why don’t we switch places? I’ll make sure your father is fine if you come over here and hold the prince’s hand for me?”

“You hurt him when he was only trying to help,” the boy whispers. “How can I trust that you won’t hurt him again?”

“My job, my duty, is to protect this man.” Chim’s hand presses against Buck’s shoulder. ”He’s Angeles’ crown prince, and his safety is always going to be my number one priority. And I made a mistake, when I saw your father with him; I made an assumption without gathering my facts, but now I’d like to start remedying that situation. And I can’t do that if I don’t have someone to look after the prince.”

The kid bites his lip, looks down at his father, and nods his head once. He rises to his feet, unsteady as he takes cautious, stumbling steps towards them, the braces on his legs creaking as he comes closer. He flinches as he plops down by Buck, the sound of his small body hitting the ground enough to make Buck wince. “Easy, there, kid,” he murmurs, reaching out to pat the boy’s knee. 

“Name’s Christopher,” the boy says softly, eyes on Buck’s hand, taking it when Buck’s turns it palm up. “He’s not going to hurt my father, is he?”

“Oh, Christopher, no. Chim’s going to make sure he’s all right, just like he said. You have my word as the crown prince.” He grins when the boy nods in agreement.

“He saved me, like he saved you. Everyone else died, but he saved me.”

Buck knows vaguely of the civil war happening in Elpaso; the wastelands and a sea separate the two kingdoms, so word from Elpaso comes only sporadically, mostly from refugees or sailors. He knows it’s bad there, but the haunting in Christopher’s voice makes him wonder _how_ bad.

Bad enough for a father to attempt crossing the wastes with a disabled child instead of staying.

He’ll have to ask Bobby more about it when he gets back to the city, but for now, he squeezes Christopher’s hand. “I promise you, we’ll make sure nothing happens to him. You will be safe in Angeles.”

It’s a promise he intends to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and thank you in advance for all the kudos and comments!
> 
> You can find me [here](https://signsofsam.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cost turns out to be rescuing a prince and getting a hit to the head in return.
> 
> He comes to struggling, because there are hands on him and people he doesn’t recognize and Chris-he can’t see his son. He’s vaguely aware he’s talking, maybe babbling, most probably screaming, because he can’t see Christopher and he needs to make sure Chris is all right and when some man comes into view that isn’t his son, he strikes with his fist first.
> 
> **“EDDIE!”**
> 
> That’s...that’s a voice he recognizes, a face he knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _The Night We Met_ is the story I work on when everything else writing-wise isn't working for me, thus the updates are slow. Sorry about that.

_The air smells of smoke._

_It’s the one clear thing Eddie remembers from the day his family dies. The air smells of smoke, the Diaz compound has been overrun, and his parents' charred bodies are hanging from the split-open front gate, a warning to all of what happens when normal, everyday people speak out against the brutal group of High Lords that’ve managed to stage a coup against the democratically-elected leaders of Elpaso._

_Eddie stumbles through the gate before he vomits._

_He’s weary and worn-down; he’s been fighting at the front for years as it was slowly pushed back to the Capitol, keeping his unit alive for_ years _, and it was all...everything was in vain. There is no longer an army, there is no longer the chance of freedom to fight for, there is no cause to rally around, because the High Lords have slammed their iron fist down upon the Capitol and its people. The final battle ended with a whimper from Elpaso’s army, a final gasp before it completely collapsed, whatever soldiers that had survived scattering back to whatever remained of their families, hoping against hope there was family left._

_The High Lord reign has started, and the regime will be a blight on the land, and Eddie...he has nothing left here._

_He has a dead wife, murdered in their house when a group of mercenaries infiltrated the Capitol and terrorized its people two years before. Eddie had been on an outpost when it happened; Christopher had only survived because he was small and quiet and the last act his mother did was hide him well._

_He has two dead parents, who only wished to call out wrong._

_He has his son._

**He has his son**.

_Christopher._

_Christopher isn’t here._

_“Chris!” he screams, twisting and turning, scanning the remains of the house, the burnt fields, the dead farm animals, bodies of servants, friends who had sought refuge-there is no Christopher._

_So he calls his son’s name again, venturing further into the graveyard, until he gets the wall at the edge of the property, and there’s a hole. He pushes through, to the neighbor’s house, and cautiously, sword drawn, heads toward the building._

_The door opens, and the neighbor smiles, breathing a sigh of relief. “Edmundo, you’ve come. Finally.”_

_She pulls him inside quickly, shutting and bolting the door behind her, and then small arms are wrapping tight around him. “Papa,” Chris cries, and Eddie feels like he can breathe again, like there’s one piece of his world that’s still upright._

_There’s still a piece of his world left that’s worth the fight._

_So he gets them out of Elpaso. It’ll take weeks to get to Angeles, but his grandmother is there; she’ll take them in, he knows. She begged them to come when the threat of the High Lords began brewing._

_He’ll get them there, no matter the cost._

_\--//--//--_

The cost turns out to be rescuing a prince and getting a hit to the head in return.

He comes to struggling, because there are hands on him and people he doesn’t recognize and Chris-he can’t see his son. He’s vaguely aware he’s talking, maybe babbling, most probably screaming, because he can’t see Christopher and he needs to make sure Chris is all right and when some man comes into view that isn’t his son, he strikes with his fist first.

“ **EDDIE!** "

That’s...that’s a voice he recognizes, a face he knows.

The birthmark.

_Buck_.

The man smiles, nodding. “That’s right. You saved me, remember? Even though I’m definitely _not_ a damsel in distress and I totally could have saved myself.” He seems to be speaking to someone else, and Eddie frowns.

“Chris?”

Buck focuses back on Eddie. “Your son is fine. He’s asleep right now, or he’d be with you. Hen and Karen will bring him here just as soon as he wakes back up; he was very tired.”

And Eddie...he can’t quite remember. “Ang’les?” he says instead, frown deepening at the slur of his words, and Buck smiles again.

“Yeah, we’re in Angeles. We arrived back early early this morning, before the sun was even up. You’ve been resting.”

Eddie’s vision is clearing, opening his world to being more than just Buck, and he can see a heavily pregnant brunette woman behind the prince. She smiles when she sees him looking at her. “We all owe you a debt of gratitude, Eddie, for rescuing my brother.”

Oh-this is Maddie. He remembers Buck talking about his sister.

He remembers the Hunters Kendall sent after her.

He remembers Buck’s leg.

“You’re standing? Your leg-?”

“Crutches,” Buck answers, and Eddie can see them now, as Buck leans on them; he can also see the pain written all over his face. “The surgeon’s going to see to it, but you were waking up and I knew you’d be worried and probably needed to see a friendly face.” There’s a clearing of a throat, and Buck glances back. “Well, that’s my cue. I just wanted to assure you that you’re safe, Chris is safe, and you’re not our prisoner or anything like that. Maddie’s safe, okay? You can trust her; she’s going to help you.”

Eddie nods, because while he doesn’t exactly believe the prince, what more can he do? If they want to arrest him, they’re going to no matter what the prince says; he hopes they’ll let him see Chris first, explain things to him. 

Buck smiles, reaching forward to squeeze Eddie’s forearm. “I’ll...I’ll see you then, once I get done. And please, please don’t worry; you _are_ safe now. We’ll protect you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I even know where this is going?
> 
> Sorta.

**Author's Note:**

> So, second chapter will be up at some point. Also, if you have a prompt you want to send me, feel free to do so at my [tumblr](https://signsofsam.tumblr.com/). Or feel free to follow me.
> 
> Thanks in advance for all the comments or kudos. If you normally follow my I Hate Accidents stories, please know that there **is** a Christmas story coming! The rough draft is complete.


End file.
